


how to not ask your best friend out

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Teikou Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:03:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2163402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Aomine is suddenly smacked with the urge to ask something completely ridiculous and extremely embarrassing. “Kise, why don’t you go out with me?”</p>
</blockquote><br/>In which Kise is dense, and Aomine is smitten.
            </blockquote>





	how to not ask your best friend out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amanduur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanduur/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dense](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/68484) by Amanduurr. 



Asking Kise out is nerve-wracking. Not that Aomine would know through personal experience, but he has seen it firsthand—girls staring down at their feet, a faint blush of both embarrassment and adoration donning their cheeks as they stand in front of Teikou’s model boy.

He’s also seen the way Kise rejects them, or as Kise puts it, _Formally declines._ Kise’s lips will bend into a soft frown that’s genuinely understanding and sympathetic, and for a brief moment it’ll look as though Kise is more hurt than the person being rejected. Aomine thinks about that look a lot, and he’s not sure if it’s because he sees it on an average of two times a week or if it’s because he wonders if Kise’s lips would do that same miniature curve if he were the one asking him out.

“Why do you always do that?” Momoi asks judgingly one day during lunch break.

Aomine averts his gaze from Kise and the girl he’s kindly letting down, and glances down at Momoi and her poor excuse of a bentou. His stomach flips at just the mere sight of it, and he hopes that she made it for herself and not him. “Do what?”

“Stare at Kise when he’s talking to a girl,” Momoi says.

“I don’t,” Aomine automatically denies. And it isn’t until that exact moment that he realizes he does in fact stare every time a girl pulls Kise off to the side...

Aomine begins choking on the yakult he’s been slowly sipping, and Momoi pats his back while repetitively asking if he’s okay. He’s okay, but he’s not _okay_ —in the sense that he’s discovering things about himself that he doesn’t want to discover. “Do I really _stare_?” He finally manages after catching his breath and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Momoi sighs, and glances in Kise’s direction before meeting Aomine’s gaze again. “You get this… look in your eyes,” she starts only to abruptly end when Kise rushes over to their table and plops into the seat across from Aomine. “Ki _-_ chan!”

“Hey!” Kise’s smile loses its dazzle when his eyes flicker down to the contents inside Momoi’s bentou box. “What is that?”

“Dai-chan’s lunch!” Momoi doesn’t seem to notice Kise’s curiosity derives from disgust, and she pushes the box towards Aomine. “We were actually just talking about you, Ki-chan.”

“You were?” Kise sounds surprised.

Aomine grimaces down at whatever the hell Momoi put in his bentou box— _is that uncooked rice?_ —before stealthily nudging it towards Kise, hoping that he’ll take one for the team and save him from death by Momoi’s cooking. Though it’s wishful thinking, because Kise is quick to push the box back towards Aomine with a frown that doesn’t look impressed.

“No, we were not,” Aomine snaps a few seconds late, and shoots Momoi a glare that would kill if he had the ability.

“Yes we were,” Momoi says through her teeth. She’s the only one Aomine knows that can smile sweetly and deadly at the same time, like her lips are soft but packed with poison. “About the amount of admirers Kise has. We were wondering why you haven’t given one of them a chance yet.”

Aomine isn’t sure what Momoi is trying to accomplish, but it’s pissing him off, and he’ll be sure to get his revenge later. She’s always been a bit meddlesome, putting her nose in places it shouldn’t be and asking questions she shouldn’t ask, but it’s never necessarily bothered Aomine until then. It’s embarrassing… in a new way that he’s foreign to, in a way that makes him feel flustered and warm and vulnerable. And Momoi knows it.

“Oh,” Kise exhales, and that small frown he usually does when he’s breaking some random girl’s heart graces his lips. “No offense to these girls, but it’s starting to get bothersome… the amount of confessions I get every week.”

“Sounds _so_ horrible,” Aomine cuts in sarcastically and maybe a little jealous, rolling his eyes. “That girl was cute. You should have said yes.”

Kise’s frown deepens. “Being cute doesn’t mean anything to me, I don’t know her.”

“Right…” Aomine says like he understands, but he doesn’t really. When it comes to girls and dating, Aomine is rather shallow. Just as long as her chest is a decent size and she knows enough about basketball, then he doesn’t see why not. It’s not something he has to frequently worry about, anyways. Aomine has never dated—the first and last girl that confessed to him was one of Momoi’s close friends, and anyone who’s close friends with Momoi is automatically disqualified.

“I’ll be right back,” Momoi says when she sees Kuroko enter the cafeteria, leaving Kise and Aomine behind with remnants of their last conversation still floating in the air. And either Kise is too dense to notice or he just downright doesn’t care.

“Momoi _cchi_ told me you guys are going shopping this weekend.”

Aomine sighs and shrugs, poking the mysterious contents in his bentou with his index finger. “I guess so.”

“You don’t sound too excited,” Kise says.

“Not really, we go shopping every weekend,” Aomine admits. He looks up to see Kise opening his own bentou box packed cutely with bear shaped onigiri and slices of salmon and octopus sausages—something one of his fans made for him, no doubt—and while examining the way he picks at his food, Aomine is suddenly smacked with the urge to ask something completely ridiculous and extremely embarrassing. “Kise, why don’t you go out with me?”

Kise looks up from his meal with wide eyes, and a long, unnecessary pause draws between them. “You mean shopping, right?” He finally responds. “Are you sure Momoi _cchi_ will be okay with that? I mean, I know you don’t want to go with her, but it might hurt her feelings.”

Aomine blinks, frozen and lost for words.

“But sure. I wouldn’t mind going shopping with you,” Kise continues, going back to picking at his food. “I need new shoes anyways, and knowing you, we’ll probably end up going to every shoe store.”

“Yeah… okay,” Aomine exhales, and for some reason he can’t bring himself to tell Kise that that’s not what he meant.

And whether Kise is too dense to notice or not, his lips don't curl downwards into that soft and diffident frown they usually do when he’s pulled off to the side by some random fangirl. Instead they part slightly, like his words were lodged in his throat, and his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.

And maybe Aomine is okay with that much.


End file.
